I know that as a man, you need that physical aspect to be there. In a way, the physicality (or lack thereof) could very possibly dominate the relationship. In your situation, it’s driven you to search for it somewhere else.

In my mind, a spouse has a responsibilty to do everything in their power to make the other happy. That’s a part of love. This is one reason I don’t understand her reasoning. Personally, if that’s what was asked of me, I wouldn’t hesitate. To please my spouse would be satisfaction enough. So why doesn’t she feel that need?

All i’m trying to say is that if it were me, things would be different.

I smile just looking at you. It’s this kind of uncontrollable smile that I’m not familiar with. It doesn’t happen that often, but when I look at you I just can’t help it. I try to hide it, but I just can’t. It’s physically impossible for me to refrain. It’s the way you look at me, it’s the way I feel about you, the fact that you feel similarly. It all overjoys me. You overjoy me.

It breaks my heart hearing you tell her you love her. A lot of things break my heart. Boo-hoo for me. I’m trying to deal, but it’s not doing much for me. I’m not so sure you realize how much this whole thing hurts. Let me repeat, for emphasis…I’m not so sure you realize how much this whole thing hurts. It seems to get worse each day. It’s making me physically sick. There is one thing that is gonna hurt worse though — not having you in at least some little part of my life. That will be the hardest of all, at least for a little while. I’m sure I’ll recover.

One last thing. The “what ifs” running through my mind drive me INSANE more than anything.

I wish things were different.

I cry just thinking about the situation.

I’ve daydreamed up some pretty impossible scenarios.

You have the most gorgeous eyes in the world.

I love your reactions to the things I tell you.

I really appreciate how helpful you’ve been.

I love how tall and skinny you are.

I wish you weren’t already taken.

She’s amazingly lucky.

They both are.

I can truly be myself around you.

I cherish that.

I miss you all the time.

Like right now.

I love being able to see you every day (almost).

I wish I could get you to talk more.

I like it when you talk.

I like it when you talk about things that matter.

This won’t last.

It won’t end pretty.

I’m right and you know it.

I’ve proof-read this too many times.

I love you.

I really meant what I said to you the other night. I realize that it was a stupid thing to say, but I couldn’t help it. Honestly, I rather regret telling you. I feel like you know too much about how I feel, like I’m becoming more vulnerable. You truly have the ability to pick me apart. Do you realize this?

I need to move on. I need to not let this get to me. We can’t keep doing this, we need to stop (easier said than done). It’s hurting me more than you would think.

You never told me what it was that was bumming you out tonight. I’d like to know what you were thinking.

I feel like the immature teenager who’s falling for someone she doesn’t deserve, and that things are happening for different reasons on either side.  I feel like an idiot when I talk lately.  I feel useless in a sense.  I feel like I’m trying for no reason.  It’s all a big mess and I don’t know how to make it better.

That’s it.

If any of the people that I care about — the people that matter — were to know what I did, they would be astonished, dissappointed…I’m afraid they would change the way they felt about me and end up cutting me off. I wouldn’t be able to live like that, without my best friend, without the boy I love. It just doesn’t make sense that I’m putting all of that in jeopardy.

He told me “What matters is how you feel when you’re alone.” I didn’t think I would be able to be alone and know how I feel without being influenced by people around me. But today I was able to do that. I was alone, or at least away from the influences, and it made sense. I remembered the words on my mirror and I knew how I truly felt.

This isn’t a good thing, this thing we’re doing. It can only get worse if we don’t do something about it. I’m not sure how to stop, or if I can stop. And then I don’t know if it will be awkward or not. If it’s awkward, I think I’ll have to kill myself. That is one of the last things I want (next to hurting the ones that matter). This is going to be one of the the hardest things to figure out.

Now here’s the stinger: is this new person starting to become one of those people that matter?  I don’t know.  All I know is that the smell is fading.  The taste is fading.  The feeling of his touch is fading, and I’m okay with that.

It took me a while to let the kiss happen. I just kept thinking about how much it would hurt the person I love if he knew what I was doing. But then I just thought to myself, “Go for it, just to see what it’s like. Just to compare.” So that’s what I did. I let myself go. And for those few seconds, I wasn’t thinking about anything but the kiss. Let me share what went through my head.

“I can smell his breath… Well this is new. Do I like this? I kinda like this. I can still smell his breath. He tastes different too. Damnit, I wish I hadn’t eaten those piroshki. This is different. This is really different. Oh, hey tongue. Whoa! Tongue! OK, too much tongue, way too much. This is weird. Well, maybe I should stop.”

Immediately afterwards, I felt horrible. My state of mind completely changed from being in the moment and focusing on the kiss, to not being able to get my mind off of the boy I love. I kept thinking about how he would feel if he knew, about how I betrayed him; you see, I really do love him more than anything. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I felt evil, I felt like a lying cheater, I felt like my father, who has cheated on my mother on more than once occasion. By this time I really couldn’t control my weeping. I really tried my best to tone it down. I had turned into the one thing I never wanted to be. I always thought it was such a horrible thing to do, I still think that. I never saw how someone could do that to a person they love. But now I see.

This is how: you get bored. Plain and simple. I was bored. Part of the reason I got bored was due to the fact that I only get to see my boy once a week. ONCE A WEEK. That is so unbelievably hard on me. Once a week I get a comforting hug, a few loving kisses, and maybe a bang. It’s not enough. I get lonely and I miss him and I have no outlet for my physical frustration. Or at least I didn’t before until I found this person, and my boredom encouraged me to go ahead with this. It felt so good just to simply be hugged, then to be touched — being poked gently in the side or secretly getting my hair ruffled, his hand running up my leg. He’s there almost every day and that makes it easier to give in. I’m almost relieved when I see him, just knowing that he’s there. That’s the part I have trouble explaining — my sense of relief.

After I got over my crying fit and we both said “I’m sorry” to each other numerous times, I felt better. I didn’t feel so bad. I hate to say it, but it was hard for me not to do it again. It only made it harder that he kept trying, or at least that was what it seemed like. He would get closer to me as I stepped backward, that silly grin on his face and that look….that look in his eyes.

I know this is already super long, but I just need to say that if we were to kiss again, there are some things I would change. I’m used to one certain kiss, and I like that kiss. Bottom line.

I become attached to people easily. I feel like I can bond with someone very quickly and let them see me for me. Once that happens, I hate to let the friendship go to waste like it has so many times before. I consider friendships to be very special and dear to me. It really bothers me when I see two friends get in a fight over nothing and suddenly they’ve stopped talking to each other, ending the friendship for good. I just want to walk up to them and shake them, ask them how they could let a friend go so easily? But I digress. I’m attached to this new person, so what? It’s normal for me. But there’s more to attachment than meets the eye….

JEALOUSY

I can be an extremely jealous person and I’m sure most people can relate. Jealousy is a common thing. It’s a hurtful thing — self-inflicted pain in my opinion. Nobody else makes you be that way. Only you can control your jealous ways. That’s very hard for me. So I let it go, I let myself get jealous. It mostly happens with people. I get jealous that someone has a talent that I don’t, or that they look a certain way that I don’t, or that they have an amazing sense of humor that I don’t have. I suppose that’s why my self-esteem is so low — I compare myself to those around me. And it makes it worse when those people with the talent or looks or wit get praised for it. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I just wish that it could be me, getting praise for having those same things. Actually, I take that back. I don’t need praise. I just want those qualities. But the point I’m trying to make is that my jealousy meter sky-rockets when a person that I’m attached to is the one giving the praise or, more appropriately, the attention.

P.S. Now that I think about it, I have access to Pizza Stop…